


in you as within me

by seeingrightly



Series: more than a trick of the light [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, let's ignore the fact that these are out of order?, tipsy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:56:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek had been looking significantly less boy band member/stalker vampire boyfriend since Jackson had taken over his hair care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in you as within me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Charlene Kaye's "Strike a Chord".

After breakfast they got – distracted, and Jackson was glad he’d remembered to bring an extra pair of boxers this time. He didn’t need Erica covering her nose and gagging while they worked on their project. Stiles would inevitably threaten to spike their pizza with wolfsbane or something.  
  
Jackson glared at the clock on the cable box with one eye; the other was squished shut against Derek’s shoulder. He was kind of flopped on top of Derek on the couch, his right arm and leg hanging off the edge to reach the floor. One of Derek’s hands ran the length of his spine.  
  
“What?” Derek asked.  
  
“I have to get dressed,” Jackson said, his voice muffled by Derek’s chest. “You know they’ll kill me if I’m, like, two minutes late.”  
  
“You don’t have to be there for forty-five minutes.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jackson huffed, leaning up on one arm to give Derek a _look_. “But you don’t look like I do without taking a little time to prep in the morning.”  
  
Derek looked unimpressed.  
  
“Allison wasn’t lying when she said you’re more high-maintenance than Lydia,” he said, but there was no bite in his voice.  
  
“Allison was drunk when she said that,” Jackson pouted. “Just because she didn’t _think_ she was lying – you have no idea what Lydia is like before picture day, okay.”  
  
“Okay,” Derek said mildly. His face still impassive, he smacked Jackson on the ass. “Get dressed.”  
  
Jackson huffed and rolled off of Derek and the couch – very elegantly – and headed into the bedroom, where he’d dropped his bag on the floor somewhere. Derek followed him in and sat down on the edge of the bed, still completely naked.  
  
“So tell me what Hester Prynne’s punishment was,” he said.  
  
Jackson glared over his shoulder as he stepped into his jeans. Derek stared back.  
  
“Ugh. Fine. She had to _wear a scarlet letter_ , Derek.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And be judged by the masses, obviously.” Jackson yanked on a t-shirt and headed for the bathroom, ignoring Derek’s next question.  
  
Jackson didn’t like the product Derek used on his hair – it was, like, popular when Jackson was in elementary school, seriously – so he’d thrown it out and replaced it with an extra container of the stuff he used on his own hair. Frankly, it worked much better. On both of them. Derek had been looking significantly less boy band member/stalker vampire boyfriend since Jackson had taken over his hair care.  
  
As Jackson leaned over the sink to make sure his hair was behaving itself, he saw Derek’s reflection step into the doorway behind him.  
  
“Here,” he said. “I’ll do yours.”  
  
Derek moved around him to close the lid of the toilet and sit down on it. Jackson took some more product and spread it along his fingers before digging them into Derek’s hair, brushing them through a few times before sweeping the front of his hair upwards into a less severe incline than Jackson usually used for himself. Derek’s eyes were closed, his shoulders loose.  
  
“Hey,” Jackson said. “I gotta go.”  
  
Derek opened his eyes and did that thing where he looked like he was smiling without actually using any of the muscles in his face. He stood, anchoring himself with his hands on Jackson’s hips.  
  
“Have fun working on the project,” he said, his nose buried in the hair behind Jackson’s ear.  
  
Jackson snorted, slipping his arms around Derek’s lower back.  
  
“You’re still coming to the lacrosse game tonight, right?” he asked.  
  
“As long as I don’t have to sit with the sheriff and Ms. McCall again,” Derek huffed against his neck.  
  
Jackson leaned against Derek’s chest as he shook with laughter.  
  
“Come on. You had fun.”  
  
Derek growled against Jackson’s jugular.  
  
“I really do have to go, though,” Jackson said, pulling back.  
  
Derek kissed him, closed-mouthed and slow, before shoving him backwards toward the door.  
  
“I’m sitting with the girls and Boyd,” he said. “I’m the alpha.”  
  
Jackson laughed as he ran to grab his shoes and his backpack.


End file.
